IABD 45: The Hidden Merchant

“What do you mean ‘make proper use of them’?” Matthias asked. “Are you an alchemist?”

“Among other things. Many other things, but let’s stay on topic. The body parts of the demonic beast—claws, bones, some of its organs, and its soul-core—are also valuable,” the merchant’s gaze was a little frantic. “You didn’t throw them away, did you?”

Matthias’ eyebrows rose. Those were the exact parts of the demonic beast his mother had said were valuable; it sounded like the man knew what he was talking about.

“Well, actually our mother has—” Matthias started saying.

“There you are!” Beggahasta called from down the street.

The towering warrior woman was jogging through the fading mist, her pack bouncing on her shoulder—had been closed messily and hastily—while one hand gripped her sword’s hilt. “Are you alright? Word is spreading about a fight down here; were you involved?”

“We had a disagreement,” Matthias said. “A strong disagreement.”

“We engaged in spirited debate,” Bregindoure added. “Very vigorous debate.”

“We outtalked them,” Dagma finished. “With our fists.”

“By the Ascended, I knew I shouldn’t have let you go down here on your own!” Beggahasta groaned, rushing to her children. She began examining them. “Are you hurt? Did they hurt you? Where are they?”

“No.” Dagma shook her head. She grinned proudly. “They couldn’t touch us.”

“Oh, thank the Ascended! Come, we should stay together. You can explain what happened on the way back to the market square.”

“Now hold on, madam!” The old man’s eyes lit up. “Is that a tiger’s fang I spy sticking out of your pack?”

Beggahasta looked at her children. “Who is that?”

“Someone who says he’s very interested in the demonic-beast tiger’s parts. He says he’ll pay a good price for them,” Matthias explained.

“I am a merchant and my name is Ecaris,” the old man introduced himself. “And I would ask you to stay awhile, good madam—I was speaking to your son there, the one with the tiger pelt cloak—and heard that you might have demonic beast parts to sell.”

Beggahasta looked the man up and down. Her eyes lingered on his ramshackle stall. “I do. Why?”

“Now, now, I understand you being skeptical, but there’s no need to be mistrustful, or to look at my cart with those hurtful eyes.” The old man raised his hands. “I would pay you a fair price: I use such parts regularly in my work.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’ve already gotten some good offers from the merchants in the square.”

“Then it was fate that our paths crossed because I’m saving you!” He wrinkled his nose. “Who offered you a ‘good price’? Tovarius? Zavant? They wouldn’t know quality if it ran up and bit them! To them, demonic beast parts are just curiosities or things to sell to alchemists or priests for a lot more than they paid. I, on the other hand, have better uses for them; they’re valuable to me, and I pay quality prices for quality goods. Judging from how well that pelt is preserved, I suspect your items are in excellent condition. How much were you offered?”

She paused, considering his question for a moment. “Four hundred gold coins,” her tone held a hint of pride.

Matthias nearly gasped; the young man did not know all the details of their family’s fortunes, but he’d learned about the cost of running a household over the years. He knew enough to guess how long such a sum could support them. ‘Now that Bregindoure’s free, I think that would keep us for almost two years. Good work, mother! Can’t let him see that though—’

The merchant burst out laughing.

“The Ascended pantheon has smiled upon you and led you to my stall. Madam, your children aren’t the only ones who just lived through an attempted robbery!”

“What?” Beggahasta frowned. “That’s higher than what the merchants offer in the Gods’ Shield, by a fair margin. It’s a good price. Are you saying you would offer more? That sounds too good to be true.”

“And how good does one thousand gold coins sound?” The merchant grinned widely, revealing his sparkling teeth again.

Bregindoure made a choking sound.

Matthias froze.

Their mother tried to keep her face a mask, but her lips tightened a little. “A thousand? If you’re trying to deceive me—”

“Deceive you? Bah! Merchant Ecaris is no cheat,” the old man scoffed. “Those bastards in the square are simply too stupid to know the true value of those items. Undercharge, then waste, that’s what they do. I, however, want to do real business with you. But not here. This place isn’t secure enough for long discussions, with the smell and number of riffraff drifting around and all. The last thing we need is for our negotiations to be interrupted by another child robber. Hold on a moment.”

He turned to a man praying at a shrine to Lady Vrai. “Brond?”

The man immediately raised his head with the exactness of a soldier. “Yes?”

“Watch my stall, will you? I have customers! Real customers.” Ecaris waved him over.

“Of course.” The man strode behind the stall, reached down, scooped up a few fingerfuls of soot and oil and rubbed it on his face. Now he more looked the part of a shabby stall keeper.

“Very good,” Ecaris bowed to him. “I’ll see you later.”

He came from behind the stall, smiling at the Stonebreakers. “Now follow me to my real store. And don’t worry; you’ll see it’s quite reputable.”

“Are you intending to get us away from the crowds...and try to mug us?” Beggahasta’s voice held an edge. “That wouldn’t be your wisest idea.”

Ecaris chuckled. “After the display your children put on just a few minutes ago? And that sword on your back? What do you take me for, a madman? Or stupid? Or mad and stupid? No, I think not. Also, if I’m lying to you, you can just cut me in half with that big sword of yours. Now, come. Business awaits!”

Ecaris led the Stonebreakers through a labyrinthine maze of backstreets.

He strolled along casually, as though he were out for a walk through a meadow in summertime, humming to himself. Behind him, Matthias and his kin stayed together, always on the lookout for anything lurking in the shadows, hiding in corners, or following at a distance.

As they continued on, they came across several rough-looking individuals—all leather, daggers, and scowls—in the alleyways, but Ecaris always greeted them with a brilliant smile, banishing their foul glares.

The toughs returned his greeting like happy children meeting a friendly elder.

“Who do you think he is?” Bregindoure whispered.

“How would I know?” Matthias whispered back. “But he’s obviously more than just some shabby stall owner.”

At last, they left an alley and moved onto a quiet street. The structures lining it were so old they appeared to be in near-ruin—the mason in Matthias couldn’t help but cringe at the condition of some of the stonework—yet there was one building that was in perfect repair.

A storefront of clean grey and white stone stood at the end of the road, displaying a sign illustrating a hammer, chisel, and a woodcarver’s axe.

“Welcome to Wondrous Works.” Ecaris gestured, fishing a key from his shirt and unlocking the door.

“Why has this street been so abandoned?” Beggahasta asked.

“Because I want it that way. I own the entire street, meaning every building on it.” The old merchant gave a friendly nod, gesturing for them to follow him.

Inside, the foul city smells vanished, replaced by the light aroma of wood, fragrant oils, with a smoky undercurrent. The interior was light and bright, the result of a great many windows and a massive skylight, illuminating shelves containing neatly organised tools, potions, and more.

Armour and fine clothing were on display in cases of clear glass, while weapons lined the walls.

“They’re masterworks each one; you can’t go wrong,” said Ecaris.

Matthias peered at a cluster of small statues perched on long shelves; their detail was exceptional and examining them made him feel almost embarrassed remembering the stone dragon he’d carved for his brother. “These are really well made.”

“Why, thank you.” Ecaris closed the door. “But they aren’t the sorts of things you’d probably be interested in.”

The merchant went to the back wall.

“I think you’ll find these items far more interesting.” He reached up, tugging on a wall sconce.

When he pulled, there was an audible click.

Matthias flinched when the back wall slid into the floor with hardly a sound.

The Stonebreaker family gaped.

An entire back room was suddenly in front of them—its walls were a pleasant yellow and the floorboards a deep cherry red—much bigger than the front room and bursting with wonders.

Dozens of items hung from the walls and stood on stands, all wondrous and elegant in their crafting: bows of golden wood, silver-hafted spears, pendants encrusted with glowing gems, and daggers with the soul-cores of demonic beasts for pommels.

Inside crystal display cases hung fine garments and armour that looked like the products of pure imagination: scarves of clear water, a robe woven from light, gloves that smouldered without fire, and armour crafted from bestial shells, scales, and hide.

There were many weapons exhibited on the walls, some metallic and delicately forged, while others looked brutal, fashioned of monster fangs and claws. Elixirs stood on shelves in clear glass bottles, liquids of vibrant colours and different viscosities.

The Stonebreaker family was speechless.

“Welcome to the real items of this shop’s particular specialty.” Ecaris’ chest swelled with pride. “I craft many items that utilise Divine Breath, mostly using parts from demonic beasts. If you want something crafted with The Gift? Go to the houses of creation on the terraces below The Blade. Desire a grand artefact from the Age of Wonder pulled from the Wolfwood by brave souls? Enter the auction house of Merchant Prince Munkhtuya, and you’ll find it there. But for items made with soul-cores, demonic beast parts, and Divine Breath gathered in rain catchers in the Zengxin Empire?”

Ecaris gestured to himself. “Accept no substitutes. But, of course, I must ask for your discretion: I do operate outside the notice of the Ascendeds’ temples.”

“These things are beautiful…” Bregindoure admired Ecaris’ work.

“But why the secrecy?” Matthias asked, gawking at the room. “Why run that shabby looking stall? If you’re an expert craftsman, why is it shabby in the first place?”

“Because in this line of work, it’s best that appearances be deceiving,” Ecaris said. “I screen my customers carefully, and individuals who might be interested in items crafted with Divine Breath often—fittingly enough—happen to visit places where Divine Breath might be common. You know, like a street that absolutely teems with shrines. All the merchants on that street are my friends, and many of the folk praying there happen to work for me. Had those thugs attacked me, well, you would have seen something truly interesting.”

“Then why did you reveal yourself to us?” Matthias was puzzled. “We only just met you; what made you think we’d be the right customers?”

“Because you three were just so heroic that I was swept off my feet!” Ecaris placed his hands over his heart dramatically, gesturing to the Stonebreaker siblings. “Here comes the mighty heroes: three young warriors to rid the marketplace of ruffians! And here I am, the humble merchant, ready to equip them for their glorious adventures!”

He laughed, as though at a private joke he’d made. “Well, that’s not quite true. The truth is that my intuition has gotten me through a very long life, and I had a good feeling about you when—I admit—you bashed up those thugs in defence of your sister. But that’s not enough. So, when I recognised your cloak, I decided to give you a little test: do you remember that knock I gave my stall? The one that happened to dislodge the valuable talisman you returned to me?”

“You did that on purpose,” Matthias realised.

“Oh yes, if you had kept it or hesitated to give it back—even for a moment—I wouldn’t have revealed myself. But you didn’t—which is a bit naive of you; it’s a hard world, and you should be wary of even accidental handouts—but someone who doesn't hesitate to return valuable baubles to dotty old men isn’t likely to try to rob them. So, you were a calculated risk and—hopefully—a fine and discrete customer.” Ecaris rubbed his hands together. “And speaking of that, why don’t you show me what you have?”

“So, that’s the reason why you’re offering such a good price,” Beggahasta reasoned. “Good, honest customers are probably not easy to come by when selling items like these.”

“Indeed, now do we have a deal?” he asked.

“Oh, I think we could negotiate a little more now that I know how valuable these parts are to you,” Beggahasta said evenly.

“Ah! I revealed my hand too soon!” Ecaris cried. “Ah well, then let us engage in the noble act of haggling!”

Matthias had a feeling that the merchant was not as bothered as he claimed to be. He’d said that the parts were valuable to him, but not how valuable. Likely, a thousand gold coins would still be a steal to him.

Especially considering the prices listed on the items in his shop, which were melting the young man’s mind.

A dagger, priced at over two thousand gold coins.

A robe for five thousand.

The spear mounted over there…was that ten thousand?

“People who can buy these things must be rich,” Bregindoure whistled. “Look at all of it! I bet you could buy a ship for some of these asking prices…right?”

He looked at Matthias.

The young greatfolk shrugged. “Why are you asking me? I don’t know how much a ship costs. You’re the one who reads all those books; how much does a ship cost?”

Bregindoure slapped his forehead. “Ah, forgive me, brother! I must have skipped volumes one to ten of ‘A Comprehensive Price List of Ships From Around the Realm!’” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Are those real books?” Dagma asked.

“Sister, please.”

As Matthias continued to examine the wonders on the walls, a thought occurred to him.

How did this merchant create all of this? Matthias knew that priests could craft relics from Divine Breath using The Gift, but their techniques were well-guarded and only possible with the deities’ favour.

Was Ecaris a priest? If so, why was he hiding his business?

Matthias’ curiosity got the better of him.

He turned back to the merchant negotiating with his mother.

“Hey, how do you make all of these items, using Divine Breath?” Matthias asked.

“I have a talent for these things.” The old man gave Matthias a sly look. “But let me ask you a question: which deities do you draw your power from, young cultivator of Divine Breath?”

“What makes you say that?” Matthias startled, his mind reeling.

“Let us just say we have something in common.” Ecaris reached up…

…and peeled off his face.

“What?” Dagma screamed.

No, it wasn’t an actual face he’d removed, but a thin, impossibly lifelike mask with an untidy grey beard and long hair, surrounding sagging, wrinkled skin.

The gentle face of a man who looked as though he’d not seen twenty-five winters had been exposed underneath. Bright red hair, vibrant, youthful skin now replaced the imitation of old age—and once he straightened his back—perfect posture was apparent.

He tugged on a stray string hanging from his ratty clothes, and they shimmered, transforming into bright blue robes with ocean wave patterns on them.

“I probably have an intuition about these things because I’m like you. Allow me to reintroduce myself; as I said, I am Ecaris. I sell talismans. I make wonders and…I cultivate the Divine Breath of Khazak, God of Smithing and Crafting.”

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Author's Note

Helloooooo!


Welcome to chapter 45! About two weeks left in our 5x/week extravaganza! No bonus chapters this weekend (I'm really really tired), but you get this.

Hope y'all enjoyed that reference yesterday and to the person who called the Stonebreaker siblings the Three Stooges, you gave me a GREAT laugh.

Cya Monday!